


boy you fill my lungs with sweetness (and you fill my head with you)

by penguin_parties



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:17:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguin_parties/pseuds/penguin_parties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short little story about two boys brought together by Ireland fortune. That's it, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	boy you fill my lungs with sweetness (and you fill my head with you)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a writing competition I've entered myself in with a bunch of other bromances! Wish me luck? xo

The cafe is crowded as always, but Harry never fails to spot a blond head out of the many bodies surrounding it. He turns around the second he sees the boy, pretends he's invested in the conversations hovering over the table rather than a certain Irishman who has his heart perking up and shivering in Harry's chest. When the lad finally reaches the biggest table in the building, everyone seated at it beams at him and welcomes him with loud, happy cries of his name. Even if they don't know it consciously, Niall is the king of the group they're created over the last year. While the bunch of them is composed of twosomes or threesomes who knew each other prior to last September, Niall is the one who linked them all up and glued them together. Harry's not sure if anyone has figured it out yet, but because of this, the group seems to worship the ground Niall walks on.

  
Niall smiles at their enthusiastic greetings and is happy to oblige to Liam, one of the boys of the group, and his request for a welcoming hug. Harry grins at the gorgeous fellow who laughs as he snuggles into Liam's sturdy chest. When they pull away from each other, Niall's rich blue eyes flicker over to Harry's face and said brunet briefly wishes the boy might feel the same way Harry feels for him. The glance lasts less than a second, and Niall hastily looks away, but Harry revels in it anyway.

  
"Great day today, isn't it?" Niall asks the entire gathering of people who watch his every move, grateful for any attention this glowing ball of awesomeness might spare them. Without waiting for a response, Niall continues, "Gonna go get me a drink, I'll be back!"

  
Harry has finished trying not to watch Niall by now even when he's walking away from him, so he freely eyes Niall's retreating back and maybe his eyes linger on his ass for a second. It's just that this guy always looks so good and Harry doesn't know if he can't stand how perfect he is or if he can't stand the fact that they'll never be together and Niall will never be his.

  
"So. Are you going to to the party with us later or is tonight the night?" Louis questions from the chair beside Harry. The curly haired one turns to look at him, reluctantly tearing his eyes from the lad he's majorly crushing on.

  
"Huh?" he cocks an eyebrow, reaches for his steaming white hot chocolate where it sits untouched on the table. He raises it to his lips, closing his eyes and inhaling the smell, hoping to drain out the thoughts of Niall that seem to swirl about his mind constantly.

  
"You know, the night you tell Niall you're in love with him." Louis says casually, as if the event is simple, just as Harry finally risks a sip of piping hot liquid.

  
Harry splutters but he manages to avoid spilling his drink, glaring at his best friend as he sets the cup down, reaching his hands out to smack them over Louis' mouth instead.

  
"Not so loud!" Harry hisses. Louis bites his fingers and Harry pulls his hand away and growls.

  
"What for? Everyone knows!" Louis retaliates.

  
Harry looks at the rest of the people at the table, regarding the way they are suddenly interested in staring at their drinks or at the ceiling. Barely anyone is talking and its obvious they were watching Harry and Louis' conversation.

  
Harry sighs and rolls his eyes.

  
"I know," he finally says glumly, wondering if his infatuation is noticeable to Niall as well.

  
"Anyway, you said a week ago you'd tell him." Louis continues, poking at Harry's side.

  
"I was joking," Harry moans, shoving at Louis' shoulder.

  
"Whatever!" Louis cries, his eyes wide and urgent and his eyebrows raised. "Now's the time to strike! Niall is single and ready to mingle, trust me!"

  
Harry hesitates.

  
"I'll think about it," he mutters, and he knows right away that he's not lying. In fact, Niall is what will probably invade his brain for the next few hours.

  
He looks over his shoulder and is surprised when Niall is already looking at him, standing at the till as he waits for his order to come. And then Niall does the unthinkable. He winks.

  
Harry's cheeks explode with a deep red and he quickly turns around, sinking into his seat as he wonders if that really just happened or if it was only his imagination. A small smile erupts on Harry's lips and he closes his eyes and thinks of a dimension where Niall likes Harry just as much as Harry likes him.

  
****

  
The hours pass by quickly at the party. The house it's taking place at is packed, but Harry doesn't really mind all the sweaty bodies and inappropriate dancing once he gets a few drinks in his system. He's dancing with everyone, smiling at faces as vacant as the ones found in school hallways, letting hands roam up and down as they search for something to keep their owners' anchored to - something to keep them from floating up into space.

  
But Niall's face is always there, always present, in Harry's mind beneath the haze and the fog and passing names. When he smiles he sees Niall's eyes, when he drinks he hears Niall's voice and when he dances he feels Niall's hands on his waist.

  
Harry met Niall when uni started - back when his only friend was a year his elder and when he couldn't tell the difference between Donaghan Hall and Drowery Hall (he learned quite soon that the two halls were rivals and it was an unwritten rule to never mix the names up; ever). Niall was working in the library because out of the forty students who conducted a prank involving water balloons and mass amounts of urine, the blond with the swift Irish tongue was accused as the lead of it all (he never confirmed nor denied to Harry how big of a role he really played within the execution of a prank that caused enough hysteria on campus to be marked down in the history of Wallerthan University), and Harry happened to be looking for books on Irish history when he conveniently came upon a native of said country.

  
"Obviously the power of Ireland fortune has brought us together," Niall had insisted, a goofy smirk on his face that displayed two rows of metal cages layed neatly upon the boy's teeth.

  
Niall was energetic and loud and laughed a lot and it made Harry wonder who made the silly decision of punishing Niall with working in the library. If anyone, the students who came to the library regularily were the ones being punished.  
Over time, a friendship, and an infatuation on Harry's part, developed between the two through study dates where no studying got done, adventures undertaken when class was to be attended, and the exploration of various petite cafes on and around the campus.

  
Harry introduced Niall to Louis and then Niall introduced them to Zayn and his girlfriend Perrie, as well as Liam and Danielle, and finally, a band of four boys from Australia joined the group: Michael, Callum, Ashton, and Luke. And that's how they became the Eleven Musketeers, and how Harry found himself head over heels for the conductor of the creation of the group.

  
Ten months later and Harry still looks up to Niall as if the boy invented gravity for the sole purpose of drawing a certain Cheshire lad closer to him.

  
Harry tips the acrid-smelling bottle in his hand back and is disappointed to find that he's drained it completely. Now on the hunt for more liquor to treat himself to, he sets the bottle on a table nearby, not really caring whether or not the smashing sound he hears next is it falling to the floor.

  
After slithering through the crowd gathered in the living room of the house, Harry reaches the kitchen. The room smells like puke but he takes no notice and yanks open the fridge. There, hiding behind a box or two of plain old beer, Harry spies one of his favourite coolers and reaches for it. Who cares if it's girly, it's Bahamas-based and Harry loves himself drinks that taste like islands.

  
"Harry!"

  
A hand pulls at his shoulder and turns him around so he's facing Louis.

  
"We think you've had enough," Louis informs him over the rumble of the music seeping into the room. "Niall's driving you home."

  
The blond then appears out of nowhere beside him, his lips perking up into a hesitant curve. Harry nearly gapes because Niall almost looks... _shy_?

  
"You're telling me the Irish guy didn't drink at all tonight?" Harry asks incredously, swaying a little while he eyes his driver with suspicion.

  
"No, he didn't actually." Louis' eyebrows crinkle in a way that tells Harry he doesn't really understand why the drinker of the group has spontaneously decided to avoid alcohol either.

  
"Coming?" Niall asks then, ignoring the quizzical looks he's being given.

  
"Uh y-yeah, sure," Harry replies, uncertain at first before he nods decidedly and follows Niall to the doors.

  
Louis gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up when Harry looks back at him over his shoulder and he momentarily wonders if he's been set up. He is not - no way, no how - telling Niall how he feels. The blond is carefree and oblivious and Harry has never seen him in a full-on, romantic, committed relationship before. Why should he expect to even be considered by the Niall Horan?

  
They climb into the car Niall's driven there and Harry is handed a water bottle. Niall tells him it wards off the hangover that is just waiting to attack the next morning. Harry takes his word for it and chugs the whole thing, suddenly very thirsty.

  
"Alcohol dehydrates you, did you know?" Niall asks, his eyes not even budging in their focused view of the road ahead.

  
Harry didn't know this, but it doesn't really matter to him at the moment. Niall is fidgety and quiet and they've been friends for awhile so nothing should really be awkward. But everything is awkward and everything will stay awkward unless Harry says something.

  
"I think I'm gonna barf."

  
That's not exactly what he'd hoped to come out of his mouth but it does and he is almost surprised when he realizes he wasn't lying.

  
Niall shoves some sort of plastic bag into Harry's hands and he can't quite figure out the purpose of it until his stomach is trying to launch itself out his throat and he keels over, emptying every ounce of liquid he's consumed the entire night into a bag that reads 'Tesco' on one side.

  
Then, once his throat isn't burning anymore and his stomach settles back into its correct spot, albeit wrinkled and exhausted, Harry passes out in the passenger seat.

  
****

  
Harry wakes up in an unfamiliar bed without a shirt and besides that, the arms that curl around his waist are slightly alarming. He's not one for dating (although he hates it, his heart seems reserved for Niall) and he doesn't really have a massive history with one-night stands.

  
When he looks for over his shoulder to examine the face of his spooner, he's in for one of the biggest shocks of his life. A golden crown lays upon the pillow beside him, its owner sleeping peacefully with a face carefully carved as if made of porcelain. He breathes steadily, his mouth slackened and open just a little, lips the gentle petals of dahlia flowers.

  
It's Niall.

  
"What?" Harry nearly screeches, and scrambles out of Niall's arms and up on to his feet in his surprise.

  
Niall stirs at Harry yelling in his ear and sits up, alarmed, when he sees Harry standing up and looking panicked.

  
"What's wrong?" he asks, and then jumps up suddenly. "Are you going to puke? There's a trash over by the-"

  
"What happened? Why am I here?" Harry rushes out, taking in the image of his discared shirt and pants on the floor near his feet.

  
"Oh," Niall sighs in relief even though Harry is panicked. "I was driving you home and you threw up so I took you to my place instead to clean you up and put you to bed."

  
Harry's shoulders relax and his eyes shrink to their normal size again.

  
"Oh okay, I just - I had assumed that - when I woke up and you were - I mean...nevermind," Harry mumbles before screwing his mouth shut to keep anything stupid from slipping out.

  
"Well, uh, listen," Niall says then, scratching at the back of his neck as he suddenly becomes incapable of looking Harry in the eyes. "I actually...wanted to talk to you about something last night."

  
"Um...alright," Harry says, sits down on the bed to tug his trousers on.

  
"So...Louis told me something a while ago-"

  
"What? What did he tell you? Was it about me?" Harry tries to jump up but his pants are still wrapped around his ankles so he stumbles a bit before deciding to just stay put.

  
If Louis told Niall that Harry liked him, today was to be the death of both Louis and Harry. Harry would be the victim of humiliation. Louis, on the other hand, would be the victim of strangulation from Harry's bare hands.

  
"Well, I - I guess he told me how you feel-"

  
"Fuck!" Harry cries and immediately buries his face in his hands. He can't bear to look at Niall anymore. He won't ever be able to see sparkling rings of cornflower blue anymore and while that may have a devastating effect on Harry's mental health, he'd rather not face them than face absolute embarrassment.

  
"No, it's fine, Harry, I-"

  
"I'm just gonna go," Harry mutters, his face a shade of red he never knew existed. He retracts his shaking palms from his face and finally secures his pants around his waist, grabbing his shirt and trying to get out of the room as fast as possible.

  
"Stop!" Niall shouts, chasing after him.

  
The layout of Niall's dorm is simple with two rooms, Harry has made it out the door in record time. Navigating the hallway is a different story, however, so he's stuck seeming a fool in the middle of the narrow expanse as he pauses to figure out which way to go.

  
"Wait, Harry, I'm trying to tell you-" Niall is calling after him and then stopping in his tracks just outside the doorway, staring Harry down.

  
"It's okay, I understand. We're friends, you don't want to ruin that. I don't need an explanation alright? Trust me it would only make me feel worse," Harry insists, refusing to look anywhere but at the cheap pattern on the carpet as he finally decides on a direction to head in.

  
"No, Harry, I like you too!" Niall finally rushes out, his voice dripping with desperation.

  
Harry freezes.

  
"Wait, what?" he asks and he can barely hear himself say it with the way it's whispered in awe and shock and relief and every emotion imbetween.

  
He turns around and Niall's already right there, leaning in and capturing Harry's lips between his. The blond's hands cradle Harry's jaw and hold him still, their noses brushing when the initial surprise subsides and Harry starts to respond. There's a coiling of his heartstrings as they are plucked and pulled to create a hum and a melody and a ringing in Harry's ears, the notes falling together to become a song unlike any Harry has ever sung in the shower. This song rises and falls with Niall's breaths and its speed picks up when their skin brushes and it curves with Niall's smile and holds steady and long when Harry finds security in this boy's arms. Harry feels like he's just dragged his feet across a heavy rug, each collide of lips is a shock of electricity down his spine and along his fingers. He never wants this sensation to end.

Niall pulls away and smiles a modest smile and Harry wants to count the freckles sprinkled along the hills of Niall's cheekbones and the ridge of Niall's nose.

"For real?" Harry asks breathlessly.

  
Niall rolls his eyes.

  
"Yes, you idiot." Niall laughs, "For a long time, actually."

  
"Me too." Harry blushes and caves easily when Niall ducks down for another snog.

  
Harry counts one hundred and twelve freckles and then finds a smattering of them on Niall's neck and another group on his calf and he decides he'll just have to stick around until he's found them all. Niall is perfectly fine with that.


End file.
